Politicians in Love
by ShawnLassiter56
Summary: Unlikely romance is brewing in the West Wing...
1. Merry Christmas, Darling

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing.**

**These are just some of my WW ships, some of them are real, some not. Enjoy and review!**

**Donatella Moss and Joshua Lyman**

**Merry Christmas, Darling**

"Josh, if you don't hurry, I'm leaving without you!" Donna yelled into the shower.

"I'm coming! You know, patience is considered a virtue." He hollered back.

"Shut up!"

"That's no way to talk to the White House Deputy Chief of Staff!"

"That's it, I'm leaving." Donna made towards the door.

Josh sprung out of the shower and clamored into his suit. "Wait!"

She rolled her eyes and dragged his shivering, wet body out the door.

O00oo00oo00O

It was snowing torrentially outside, and for some bizarre reason, Donna had decided that they would walk seven blocks to get to Sam's Christmas party. Snowflakes stuck to her blue velvet dress. Josh was so cold he could barely walk, due to the fact that he had been dragged outside before he could get his coat. Donna's 5-inch heel kept sticking in the snow, and her ankle kept twisting. Long story short, it was the walk from hell. You know, if hell was -15 degrees.

When they finally found Sam's apartment, they discovered that the

party had been moved to Sam's girlfriend's house, due to a burst pipe in the building. Sam had recently started dating a young redheaded lawyer, and even though Josh and Donna loved her, they weren't particularly fond of the fact that her house was another six blocks away. They decided to call a cab.

"Ow, Josh, I think I did something to my ankle." Donna moaned on their way to their cab.

He sighed. "Okay, hop on." He bent over. She wrapped her legs around his back.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He jogged across a lawn, and tripped right into the open car door. They fell into the cab together, laughing. "Take us to the Elegance Apartments, please." Donna called to the driver.

"Sure thing."

"Can you put the radio on?" Josh asked.

The driver turned it on.

Donna and Josh had starting dating around Christmas last year. On their first date, they went dancing. Their first dance was to Merry Christmas, Darling, and it had been "their song" ever since.

"Hello, Christmas lovers! This one is for the couples." The DJ crooned.

"**Greeting cards have all been sent,**

**The Christmas rush is through,"**

Josh smiled and joined the crackling recording.

"**But I still have one wish to make,"**

Donna giggled and started to sing too.

"**A special one for you."**

She curled up in his lap and continued to sing:

"**Merry Christmas, darling,**

**We're apart, that's true,**

**But I can dream,**

**And in my dreams,**

**I'm Christmasing with you."**

The radio crackled out. "Merry Christmas, Josh. I love you."

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart. I love you too." 


	2. Confessions

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. This chapter is from Sam's POV. This pairing will probably require a Part 2.**

**Sam Seaborne and Joshua Lyman**

**Confessions**

I felt a chill. Why did he ask that? Could he tell? Was I that obvious? I had no clue how to respond to this. Was I supposed to just get down on my knees and tell Josh that I wanted him and I didn't care about anyone else?

"Sam?" He gave me a confused look. "Did you hear me? I asked if you were after anyone in the West Wing. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Everything.

"Ella from Accounting is pretty easy on the eyes. What do you think?"

It was Wednesday night, which Josh and I agreed at the beginning of the President's term would be our "guy time". We usually just watched football together, but he had decided that this week, we would talk about girls. He couldn't have picked a worse week.

My whole life, I've had...well...gender-conflicted feelings. Don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely attracted to women, but my feelings towards guys have always been confusing. Lately, I had been developing some feelings towards Josh. It doesn't make sense. I've known him for years, why is this just happening now? Anyway, these feelings are like a damn virus, they keep getting stronger.

"She's alright; I'm just not much for Russian girls." I shrugged.

He gave me a weird look. "Ella's British. What's going on with you?"

I sighed. "I guess I'm kind of into someone who will never want me back."

"Who?"

"Well, that's the really rough part. It's a...it's guy."

"Really? Are you..."

"Gay? I'm not sure."

"Do I know him?"

I chuckled nervously. "You could say that."

"Does he work here?"

"Yup."

"Who is he, Sam? You can trust me."

"He's...you."

"What?" His voice was oddly gleeful.

"Why do you sound happy?"

"Well, I like a guy, too."

"Oh. Who?

"You." He reached out and kissed me. Gently at first, but it became passionate and desperate. We were sprawled out on his desk, grabbing at each other and moaning when we heard a gasp outside Josh's office.

I lifted my head and saw Leo. His jaw was almost reaching the ground.

He put his hands above his head and slowly backed away. "I saw nothing, I saw nothing..." I heard him quietly muttering.

I then realized that I was lying on Josh's desk, straddling him, with an open office door, in the White House. Something about it felt unprofessional.

I sprung to my feet. Josh was still lying on his desk, panting and blushing. I was doing the same.

"Sam Seaborne, I love you." He said, almost matter-of-factly.

"Joshua Lyman, I love you too. Now, to deal with the donkey in the room—we don't really do elephants around here—what the hell does this mean?"

Josh shrugged. "I have no clue."

"Do you want to discuss it over drinks?"

"Ah-kay."

"I'll just go tell the President we're leaving."

"Ah-kay."

"Don't move." I dashed out the door to the Oval office. I was absolutely walking on sunshine. Who gives a damn if our relationship makes no sense to either of us right now? We were happy. Plus, I had a date with the sweetest man in D.C.

Yipee!


	3. Claudia Jean

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. This chapter is from Danny's POV. It's a little sadder than the others, as Danny's love is unrequited, but I tried to keep it a little bit light. As usual, enjoy and review!**

**C.J. Cregg and Danny Concanon**

**Claudia Jean**

The day I met C.J. Cregg, I couldn't get her out of my mind. I haven't been able to since. She hurts me on a daily basis, and she's slowly breaking me, but I don't care. It's a painful addiction, but I can't give it up. Can't give up her sense of humor, can't give up her brilliant mind, can't give up her beautiful face.

The only thing that keeps me going is that kiss. The memory of it gives me just enough hope to keep going. Plus, I don't think our goldfish could withstand a torn-apart family. I would hate to have the poor thing grow up in a troubled environment.

I'm just dumb enough to cling to this fantasy, but just smart enough to know that it _is_ a fantasy.

I need to accept it: Claudia Jean doesn't want me, and she never will.

For some reason, it all seems realer when I call her Claudia Jean. It's a beautiful name. I mean, C.J. is beautiful too, but Claudia Jean—it's so _her_. Graceful, but edgy and independent. I guess that damn independence is the reason she won't date me, and the reason for her mean streak. She's too strong and proud for a relationship, let alone a relationship with a guy like me.

Our jobs pose another dilemma: White House Press Secretary and Chief White House Press Correspondent. A relationship could lead to both of our firings, and she doesn't feel that it's worth the risk. I do.

She makes me hate myself, doubt my nature, embarrass myself and lash out.

I'm losing my damn mind.

I'm an optimistic and persistent guy, always have been, always will be. I've been trying to win her over since Day 1. Flirting, joking, helping, I even got her a goldfish. I've asked her out, taken her out, withstood her demeaning humor, and returned nothing but love.

But then, right when I've decided that love sucks and I'm done with it all, she gives me just a little more hope. It's cruel, in a way, but in another way, it's the sweetest thing she could do for me in that moment. For that moment, I lose my sad brokenness and just chant "Maybe, maybe, maybe," in my head until my ears ring from the repetition.

And then, when I can't take the "Maybe"s any more, it comes back:

Claudia Jean doesn't want me, and she never will.


	4. Lockdown

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. This is from C.J.'s POV. Of course, enjoy and please review!**

**Sam Seaborne and C.J. Cregg **

**Lockdown**

It was completely empty in the West Wing. Except for, obviously, me. Sam had also stayed late. The President was on his way to the residency. It was so quiet that Sam had decided to work in my office. He got lonely pretty easily.

Suddenly, a voice came over the emergency speaker. "There is an intruder in the West Wing. The doors have auto-locked. Be as quiet as possible."

"Oh my God. C.J, we're going to die."

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, we're going to be fine."

He recoiled. He looked like a kicked puppy. Poor kid. I always forget how innocent he is, and that I really shouldn't snap at him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to snap, I'm just really stressed."

He nodded. "It's alright. Ooh, let's play a game."

I slowly nodded. "Okay. What kind of game?"

"A question game. I used to play it with my roommate in college. It's pretty simple; I ask a question, you answer it, and vice-versa."

"Okay, you go first."

"Alrighty...are you scared about the intruder?"

"Not really. It's probably just a drill. Are you?"

"Yup. Yup, I'm scared." He quivered a little.

I reached out and took his hand. "Sam, it's okay. We're going to be fine."

He looked down at my hand, then up at me, then down at my hand again. I thought about letting go, but then I noticed his smile, and I realized that the gesture was appreciated. "Thanks. What's the scariest thing that's ever happened to you?"

I sighed. "Um, well, when I was 10, a man with a knife knocked on my houses door when I was home alone. My father was a police officer, and he had made some enemies, the man was screaming about how he was going to make my dad regret arresting his brother. I called the police, and he was threatening me when they dragged him away." I had told three people about that: my parents and a therapist they made me see afterwards. I don't why I told Sam; I guess I just felt close to him in that moment.

He locked eyes with me. "I'm really, really sorry you went through that."

"Yeah, well, I'm fine now, no harm done." Just as fast as I had put it down, I put my guard back up.

He nodded, recognizing that I was done talking about it. "Of course, yeah."

"What's the...um...best relationship you've ever been in?"

He smiled and stared out my window. "That would be my first post-college girlfriend, Vanessa. She was incredible. She had long brown hair, green eyes, and huge..." He looked up like he was just remembering I was there. "shoulders. But, like, huge in a good way, like, strong, tough shoulders, shoulders you can have fun with, I mean-"

I snorted. "Sam, they're called breasts." He blushed even deeper than he was before.

"Oh...um...okay."

I smirked. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're nervous."

"Well, thank you. I suppose."

"You're welcome. Your turn." I laughed.

"Oh, right. I have a good one! If I were a food, what would I be?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "That's your 'good one'?"

"Yes, it is. Answer or face the consequences."

"What consequences?"

"Well, you're coming dangerously close to finding out."

"Oh, well, now I'm scared!"

"Don't mock the consequences!"

"Okay, fine, I'll answer, but only because of my pure terror of 'the consequences.'"

"Respect them, C.J.!"

"Alright, alright! You would be...apple pie, because you're sweet and warm and delicious. I mean—"

"Now who's tripping over their words?" He laughed.

"Sam, I meant—"

"That I am just delectable. I understand."

It was my turn to blush. "Sam! You know very well what I meant!"

He giggled gleefully. "I do, which is why this is so much fun!"

"Samuel Norman Seaborne!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. You're up."

"Alright. If you were marooned on a deserted island with one person, who would you want them to be?"

He sighed. "I guess, you. I feel like you would know what to do, plus we could play this game until we were rescued."

"Wow, that just sound like a barrel of fun! Can you cover me with honey and send me on a bear hunt too?"

"Well, I gue—C.J.! How dare you play on my simplistic lack of sarcasm understanding!"

"I'm-"snort"-sorry!"

"Well, you should be. What about you?"

"What?"

"The island thing."

"Oh, right. Um...well, you. You seem island-smart and, you know stuff."

Ha. Island-smart my ass. I had different reasons. Lately, I had kind of had my eye on Sam. At first I was really upset because of our age difference. I felt like some kind of cougar or something. But then, I realized that it wasn't that bad. The age difference, I mean. This lockdown thing seemed like a sign, and I was debating whether or not I should tell him.

"Yes, we lawyers make wonderful island-men. You'd be surprised"

"Sam, are you being sarcastic with me?"

"Maybe."

I jumped up and gave him a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

He laughed. "Thanks!"

Then, something happened. When I pulled away, something ignited. We both felt it. He reached out and put his hand lightly on my cheek. I let my hand rest on his shoulder.

And he kissed me.

Let me make on thing very clear: _he_ kissed _me_. I was merely a passenger on the ride. Not that I minded. At all.

As if it had been waiting for us to kiss, the speaker crackled on. "The drill is over. The doors have unlocked."

We looked at each other. He looked as surprised as I felt.

Sam was the first to break the silence. "Let's go get drinks."

I nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Let me go get my coat."

"Sure."

That night was the first date of many.


	5. A Lot Can Change in a Week

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. I also don't own Ainsley's dialogue during the debate, I took that directly from the episode, I'm not remotely smart enough to make that kind of stuff up. This chapter will alternate between Ainsley's POV and Sam's POV. It'll show their views of each other growing and changing over their first week of working together. Keep in mind, nothing but the first scene is based on actual events from the show, just the musings of a deranged author. I'm pretty early into the series and I just met Ainsley (so keep in my mind that I don't know a lot about her yet, she might get a little OC). I really love her, and I'm 99% sure there'll be a thing between her and Sam, but don't tell me if I'm right or wrong. Anyway, I think that their relationship would be very sweet, but slightly forbidden because of the whole democrat-republican thing. Kind of Romeo and Juliet-ish.**

**Ainsley Hayes and Sam Seaborne**

**A Lot Can Change in a Week**

Ainsley

Upon First Meeting Sam

Look at that ignorant idiot. He's looking at me like I'm some kind of pretty daddy's girl republican who doesn't have a clue about politics. I can see where his brain goes when he looks at me, I know his type. He thinks that he'll sweep the floor with me, little old me won't even get a word in before the big man shows me how it's done. Yeah, right.

The moderator asks him a question, and right off the bat, he's blatantly lying, with no shortness of condescension.

I beat around the bush for a minute, but then, once I've got him right where I want him, I come out with it. "The bill contains plenty of money for textbooks, Mark, and anyone who says otherwise is flat-out lying." A shadow crosses his face; maybe he's realizing that I'm not stupid. "And we shouldn't lie about this. Textbooks are important, if for no other reason than they'd accurately place the town of Kirkwood in California and not Oregon."

After that, I continue to talk, not letting him get a word in edgewise. That look of surprise on his face, that I had brains—it makes me sick. Just because I'm a pretty, southern blonde republican doesn't mean I'm a toy.

Sam

During Ainsley's Rebuttal

I am getting my ass handed to me by a leggy blonde republican. Please God, tell me it's just a twisted dream, and I'll be waking up any minute now. This may sound sexist, and I am _not_ sexist, but this girl isn't supposed to know anything! She's jumping out of her stereotype, but it's as impressive as it is unsettling. She's tough, she knows how to handle herself, and she's anything but ignorant and dumb.

She won't let me get a word in edgewise; this is hardly even a debate. The worst part is; everything she's saying makes some sense. This is...embarrassing if nothing else. I'm _really_ hoping no one sees this.

Ainsley

After Sam Fires Mark and Steve

Wow. I'm...surprised at him, to say the least. I guess I underestimated him. I mean, all he had to see was that disgusting note, and he was running upstairs, furious. A witness recounted the firing to me afterwards, and it sounded...pretty amazing. I just met him, and he's doing stuff like that without me even asking? I'm not sure if he's incredibly sweet or incredibly patronizing, or maybe both. But I like him. I think he might be a pretty good guy.

Sam

After Firing Mark and Steve

I can't believe those bastards. How could they do that to a colleague, simply because of immature partisanship? It's just not right. Tormenting and disrespecting Ainsley, just because she believed in different things. Some people are just cruel.

Thank goodness for Lionel backing me up, I would have looked ridiculous if I hadn't been able to fire them. Maybe he's not such a cricket-bat-waving lunatic after all. Huh.

Ainsley

The Day After the Senior Staff's Welcome Party

When I come into work today, everything's different. I'm getting less dirty looks, more respect. Having the Senior Staff on my side might've made a difference, especially Sam's demonstration of what happens when you disrespect me.

After last night, I started having mixed feelings about him. I may or may not be developing a few feelings for him, but at the same time, I know I can't. An office crush is just the kind of unprofessionalism everyone's expecting from me, so if I want to keep respect, I can't like him. Politics and my career are more important than a relationship right now, and Sam has to take a backseat. Plus, he probably doesn't even want me.

Right?

Sam

The Day After Ainsley's Welcome Party

I want her. I shouldn't want her, but I do.

It's not just because she's beautiful. She's smart. And strong. And very, very republican. I'm honestly afraid she's going to fall off the right wing. Then, there's me: a democrat from birth, home-grown Californian liberal. Do you see how that could be a problem in a relationship? It would be one thing if we were, say, teachers, or something like that. But we're not. We're politicians who work together in the White House.

Since yesterday, she's gotten more of the respect she deserves. It's still not enough, but it's a start. Everyone's problem with Ainsley is based on the oldest partisanship issue in the book: preconception. Before anyone even met Ainsley, half the building already saw her as ambitious, mean and stupid. C.J. even decided that the poor woman burns her pets. Even I had jumped on the "Republican sex kitten" bandwagon.

But, then again, she came in with similar generalizations about Democrats. She called us smug and patronizing without even having met a lot of us. She claimed that we believed that those who believed differently than us were less than us and had colder hearts. And I can't deny, there are absolutely democrats who believe that, but there are also some blonde, stupid, ambitious republican women. We're all to blame for her job here starting on such a bad note. I really, really hope we can all be mature enough to start fresh and give her a fair shot at becoming an esteemed member of the Bartlet administration. Besides, I really doubt she would want a relationship with a guy like me.

Right?

Ainsley

A Week After Her First Day

I can't believe it's been a week since I started working here. Time flies when you don't have time to look at a calendar, I guess. I've been swamped. Since I'm one of the very few, if any, republican members of President Bartlet's staff, so my services are in high demand. Basically, people use me whenever they need someone who speaks republican. It's a little demeaning, but I'm growing to really like this job. I've made great friends, I've gained a tremendous amount of respect, and my title has changed from "The Republican Bitch" to Ms. Hayes. I think it's been a productive first week. I'm just packing up to head home when I hear footsteps running down the stairs outside my office.

"Ainsley? Are you still here?" A familiar voice calls.

"Sam, I'm in my office."

"Oh, okay." He jogs into the room. Then he surprises me, and gives me a bear hug. He's warm, but not sweaty. He smells really good.

"What was that for?"

He grins. "Your one-week anniversary! This is a big deal! Believe me, once you survive a week in this place, you can survive anything here." He brought his hand out from behind his back and produced... "Flowers! For you. They're, you know anniversary flowers, for your anniversary, because, you know, it's your-"

I reach out and kiss him.

I shouldn't have, I know that. This was the White House, and kissing him is completely inappropriate. But still, the whole time he was talking, I couldn't help staring at his lips. They were talking and talking, and I just wanted him to stop talking, and kissing him seemed like an appropriate way of going about shutting him up.

He kisses me back warmly. His hands rest on the small of my back. Maybe this thing isn't so one-sided after all. He pulls away.

"Let me buy you dinner."

"I had plans with Donna."

"Reschedule." He kisses me again for good measure.

I sigh. "Okay. Let me go tell her."

"Okay."

"I'll be back." I run upstairs at top speed, making a beeline for Josh's office. I feel a little guilty ditching her for Sam, but she'll understand. Okay, I'm here. Josh is sitting at his desk with his feet propped up, eating French fries.

"Ainsley, hi! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You're bright red, and your lipstick is all over your neck."

I look down. Damn, he's right. "It's not lipstick, it's...blood." Yes, that's the best a Harvard graduate political analyst could do. Don't judge me, I just got a surprise kiss and dinner invite from a guy who I thought had no interest in me. I'm a bit flustered.

"Oh my god, do you need a ride to the hospital?"

"No, thanks, I think it'll resolve itself. Do you know where Donna is?"

He holds up his finger. "Un momento. DONNA!" He screams at the top of his lungs.

She comes running. "What?"

"Ainsley wants you."

"Oh, hi, are you ready to go?"

"That's actually why I'm up here. I can't go to dinner."

"Does this have anything to do with the lipstick that's all other your neck?"

Josh piped up. "It's blood."

Donna nods knowingly. "Have fun with Sam."

I give her a weird look. "Um, thanks."

"Don't worry about it, news travels fast around here."

"Okay. Bye, Donna, bye, Josh!"

"Bye, Ainsley!" They chorus.

I run back down to Sam.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep. It's amazing, just 7 days ago, I hated your guts."

"Well, Sam, a lot can change in a week."


	6. Togther

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. In this chapter I'm doing something I've never done before: write about a couple I don't ship. I've written about everything from fake psychics to small town cops to rebellious teenagers, but I've never written about a couple I didn't think could work in reality. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm dumb, maybe I'm cynical, but I don't see C.J. and Toby working. But, I'm experimenting, and maybe writing about them will change my perspective. This chapter is about C.J. and Toby's life as a family and as parents. Okay, enjoy and pretty please review! Feedback really makes my day.**

**C.J. Cregg and Toby Ziegler**

**Together**

The Proposal

"C.J., I have something to ask you." Toby was pale and sweating, his voice shook.

"Toby, did you forget to buy peanut butter again? I mean, I can get it if I need to, but it's your week to do the shopping, and I really wish—"

"C.J.?"

"What?"

"Stop talking."

"Toby, what's going on?"

He took her hand. "My lady, follow me."

He pulled her up four or five flights of stairs until they reached the roof of the White House.

Let me set the scene: it was a beautiful summer night, there was a little breeze, but it was still warm. The White House's lawn was a deep green, freshly groomed.

"Oh my god, Toby, are you going to push me off?"

He chuckled a little. "No, not this time, anyway."

She grinned. "How sweet. What's going on?"

"It's beautiful up here." He was stalling; he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Yes, it is."

Toby took a deep breath and dived in, head first. "C.J., we've been together for almost two years. I've, honestly, never been happier. I'm not always a nice guy, and, well...you make me better. You're beautiful, you're smart, and I don't know what I'd do without you. I don't want to spend another day without being yours forever, so...Claudia Jean Cregg, will you marry me?"

For the first time in her life, C.J. was speechless.

"Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!" Tears streamed down her face.

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

"Okay!" He picked her up and spun her. "You're going to be my wife!"

"You're going to be my husband!"

"Can you believe this?"

"No! Let's go out and celebrate!"

"With people?"

"Sure!"

"You go recruit people, I'm going to stay up here a sec."

"Okay, sure." C.J. ran down the stairs.

Toby stood on the roof, looking over D.C. It was really beautiful at night, with the lights and everything. He never grew tired of overlooking the city. This marriage was the end of an era, certainly, but also the beginning of a new one. A brighter, happier one. And he, for one, couldn't wait for it to begin.

C.J.'s Announcement

About a year into their marriage, C.J. and Toby decided that they wanted kids. They only had to try for about a month before they got big news. Or more, C.J. got big news.

The forth time she took the test it came up positive. C.J. couldn't believe it. They hadn't been trying for long, maybe it was a mistake. What if they weren't ready? What if _she _wasn't ready? They both worked days that ranged between 8 hours and 24 hours. Did they even have time for a baby? What if pregnancy made the press corps stop taking her seriously, or even worse, what if Josh stopped being afraid of her? She couldn't take that risk!

She beat herself up with endless what-ifs for about a week before she finally told Toby.

Early on a Monday morning, she gathered up her courage and came to his office.

"Toby, I have news."

"Who died?"

"No one. I'm...I'm pregnant."

"Please tell me it's mine."

She laughed. "It's yours."

Toby jumped up and threw his arms around his wife. "We're going to be parents! Someone's going to call you Mommy, and they're going to call me Daddy." He ran out of his office, C.J. in tow. "Ginger, I'm going to need the best champagne in this place." C.J. glared at him.

"I can't drink."

"Oh, make that lemonade, then."

Sam was passing by Toby's office. "You guys look...strangely happy. What's going on?"

"I'm having a baby!"

"C.J., congratulations! Is it Toby's?"

"Why the hell is everyone asking me that?"

"I'll take that as a yes." He gave her a hug. "You'll be a great mom." He whispered in her ear.

"Thanks."

"Who else knows?"

"Me and Toby."

"Are you going to tell everyone else?"

"Yeah, if you see Josh or Leo, tell them to stop by my office."

"Okay. I have to get to a meeting on the hill. I'm really happy for you." He grinned at her before jogging off.

She reached down and touched her stomach. She couldn't wrap her head around the thought of a little person being in there. A little mix of her and Toby. She could almost feel a presence in there, if she focused.

It was the happiest feeling in the world.

More News

A few months later, C.J. and Toby got even more news.

"Mrs. Cregg-Ziegler, you appear to be having...twins. Both girls. Congratulations." When her doctor told her this, C.J. burst into tears.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well...thank you!"

"Do you two want to be alone for a moment?"

C.J. smiled at Toby. "Yes, please."

"C.J., we're going to have two little girls. How are we going to handle two girls? I'll be so outnumbered!"

"Toby, if you can hold your own with politicians, girls are only about 2x as difficult, so you have a good start."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Honey, I was kidding. You'll be a wonderful father. I promise."

The Birth

"Toby, I will kill you! How dare you put this damn thing in me, this is your fault! You're a mean-spirited, cruel man!" C.J. screamed.

Toby turned to the nurse. "She's been in labor for nine hours; do you think she'll be running out insults anytime soon?"

"I wouldn't count on it. She's unusually labor-aggressive; most husbands only wind up with one broken hand." She said, motioning to his bloody, bandaged hands.

"How much longer?"

"Not long, the baby's almost out."

"There are two."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, you've got a little while to go in that case." She turned to C.J. "Mrs. Cregg-Ziegler, push as hard as you can."

"I don't have any more damn pushing left!" She yelled, but she pushed anyway.

"Okay, here it comes..."

C.J. screamed at the top of her lungs.

"There! Mrs. Cregg-Ziegler, the first baby is out!"

"Does that mean it's over?"

"You still have one more baby."

"Goddammit!" She cried.

"Mr. Ziegler, feel free to go down to the cafeteria or the bathroom if you need to."

"Toby, if you leave now, you won't make it out of this hellhole alive!"

He turned to the nurse. "I think I'll stay, thank you."

This proceeded for five more hours before the babies were finally both born. They were named Tabitha and Delilah.

Parents

**14 years later:**

"Mom, are you coming? Madame Labelle willkill me if I'm late for class again! I can't miss barre warm up, come on!" Tabitha stood outside her parent's bedroom, beating her pointe shoes on the door.

"Yes, Tabby, I'm coming. Do you know how loud those are?" C.J. called back.

"Uh-huh. That's why I'm using them!"

C.J. ran out the door, almost knocking her daughter down the stairs. "Tabby, do you have a water bottle?"

"No, I don't need it."

"Your father will kill us both if he finds out you took another class without water!"

"So don't tell him."

"Tabitha Rebecca Ziegler, get a water bottle!"

"Fine." Tabby stormed into the kitchen.

"And for Christ's sake, stop walking around on the hard wood floor with shoes!" C.J. called after her.

Delilah ran down the stairs. "Mom, can I go out?"

"With whom?"

"Kayla and Peyton."

"Where are you going?"

"The movies."

"Okay, fine, but your father has to drive you."

Right on cue, Toby came out of his study.

"Dad, can you drive me to the movie theater?"

"I'm about to leave for the Lymans, but I guess I can drop you off along the way."

Delilah kissed her father's cheek. "Daddy, you're the best! Let me get my purse." She ran away.

"They move like lightning now, but when they need to get out of the shower or get dressed? Like turtles."

C.J. nodded. "It's the truth."

Tabby ran back into the hall. "Okay, let's go. Bye, Dad." She sprinted out the door.

"I feel like such a mom." C.J. sighed.

"You are."

"I mean, schlepping our daughters around, nagging about water and shoes, when did I get like this?"

"I don't know. I do it too, but the trick is to do little paybacks. Like, driving Del to the movies. That's a point for me, which I can use against them next time they won't do something for me. If we keep doing that, we might get out of parenthood alive."

"What would I do without you?"

"You would smothered by our terrifying adolescents."

"Oh, and you could survive without me."

"I never said that."

"Mom!" Tabby shrieked in the door.

"I better go." She kissed him chastely. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	7. Something Special

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. I'm aware that Donna is from Minnesota, not California, but please suspend your disbelief. The Sam/Donna pairing is totally random, I'm not even sure if I ship them, I just kind of liked the idea. This chapter is from Sam's POV in Part 1, Donna's in Part 2. They are around 14 or 15 in Part 1; Part 2 takes place when Donna joins the campaign. Enjoy and please review!**

**Sam Seaborn and Donnatella Moss**

**Something Special**

**Part 1**

**Labradoodle in Love**

Today is a big day: The California Teen Debate. The two best teenage debate teams in the state come together and engage in a battle of wits. My team, The Laguna Labradoodles (our coach is an idiot) is going against the Del Rosa Dolphins. We're sitting behind our table on the stage, testing the mics. We only have 2 hours until the audience comes.

The Dolphins are late; they had a really long drive to the competition. We finish up our routine checks, and they arrive. They look...threateningly smart. They're in a wolf-like pack, and they keep pointing at different members of our team and whispering. They're mainly girls, with only 2 boys out of 7. The girls are all very, very pretty. The one that seems to be the leader really jumps out at me. She has curly blonde hair, pale skin and wide green eyes. Crap! She caught me staring. She smirks, and waves a little. She mouths "Hey."

I try to wave, but my hand won't listen to my brain. "Hi." I whisper lamely.

She grins. Her team walks away, to the green room.

"Alex?" I whisper. "Do you know the blonde girl that was waving to me?" He used to go to Del Rosa.

"That's Donnatella Moss. She goes by Donna."

"Okay, thanks."

Donnatella Moss. What a name. It suits her. Or, I guess, my idea of her. I really wanted to meet her, like, one-on-one.

Apparently, she did too.

When her team comes out to get situated, she approaches me. My team isn't behind the table anymore; we're just wandering around the auditorium, going over our arguments.

I'm in a dark corner, mumbling to myself, trying to figure out what I'll do when she gets here.

Well, too late. "Hi. Am I interrupting?"

I sigh. "No, it's fine. I'm Sam Seaborn."

"I'm Donna Moss. I shouldn't be talking to you."

"Same here."

We stood in silence for a minute. "Are you nervous?"

"Maybe. Are you?'"

"Maybe."

"It's going to be on TV, you know."

"Yeah, I heard. I'm nervous."

"Me, too." We laugh. There goes playing tough.

"Seriously, can you believe this is happening? I don't about you're team, but mine barely even got here."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we almost lost regionals, but the other team was caught cheating."

"What team?"

"The Chester Chimps."

"Is there such thing as a debate team without a stupid name?"

"Says the Labradoodle." She giggles.

"That's my point!" I'm laughing too. I like this girl.

"Who do you think's going to win?"

"Well, the Labradoodles, of course."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah! We're smart, loyal and easily-trained."

"Now you have me worried!"

"You should be!" We're both cracking up at this point.

She takes a deep breath. "Okay, this might be a stupid thing to say, but I'm only going to know you for the next few hours, so what the heck: I like you. You're cute, you're funny, and you have extensive knowledge of labradoodles."

"I like you, too."

"I'm on a kick lately, of just doing things because they feel good, and not thinking about consequences. I like it."

"I like it, too."

She smiles, her eyes twinkling. "Have you ever just wanted to do something impulsive, and just see where it takes you?"

I nod. "Yeah, sure."

"Do you mind if I try something?"

"What do you have in mind?"

She leans in and kisses me. It's a very experimental kiss, lips firmly closed, with both of trying to figure out how to stop bumping noses. Wow. She tastes minty.

When she pulls away, she's laughing a little. "I can't believe I just did that."

"I'm glad you did."

"Okay."

"Want to do it again?"

"Okay." And we do. After a few minutes, she pulls away and whispers, "Sorry, I really have to go back to my team, I have to get warmed up."

"Okay." I whisper.

"See you on the ice."

"See you."

O00oo00oo00O

The Labradoodles lost that night. Defeat was bitter, but I didn't really care that much. I couldn't stop thinking about Donna. I knew that I would probably never see her again, but I would never forget her.

**Part 2**

**So We Meet Again**

**Many Years Later**

As I drive to the Bartlet campaign headquarters, I felt good. This was it, this was what I needed. I needed to reinvent myself, to become someone new, and becoming part of the Bartlet campaign will do that. I hope.

What I get a really bad assignment? Like, what if I wind up stuffing envelopes, and I get a bunch of paper cuts? Or, what if I'm an assistant to an old grouch? I need to stop worrying.

"Que sera, sera, Donna. What will be will be. It's okay. Just breathe. And, I'm talking to myself. Alright."

I'm here. It's a nice building. When I walk in, I see a table, with a sign that says CAMPAIGN REGISTRATION. There's a man sitting behind the desk. He's intimidatingly cute. I'm suddenly terrified. This is politics. I'm not ready for this. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't-

"Miss, can I help you?" The man calls, interrupting my mantra.

"Yes, um, yes. I'm looking to volunteer for the campaign."

He grinned warmly. "You're in the right place. What's your name?"

"Donnatella Moss."

He jumped. "What is it?"

"My name's Donnatella Moss. What's yours?"

"Sam Seaborn."

Oh. My. God. It's him. I don't why I remember that, but it's him. It's the Laguna Labradoodle that I kissed at States. Jesus Christ, how is this even possible?

"Sam! Wow, I...do you remember?"

He nodded slowly. "What are the odds?"

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"So, you're volunteering here too?"

"I'm a speechwriter for Bartlet. I'm one of his advisors."

"You've come a long way since being a Labradoodle, huh?"

He laughs a little. "Well, I miss it. Once a Labradoodle, always a Labradoodle. What have you been doing?"

"I just, um, graduated college. Political Science major."

"Well, Donnatella, I may I have a job for you."

O00oo00oo00O

It's been a long, exciting day. My boss, Josh Lyman, is pretty sardonic, but I can see us becoming friends. As I walk out the door, a hand grabs my shoulder.

"Donna, wait." Sam says from behind me. "Do you have plans tonight?"

"Um, no." Just sitting on the couch ripping up pictures of my ex. "Why?"

"Let me buy you dinner."

"Okay." Yes. This is why I came here, this is how I restart. It's perfect. This time will be different.

We walk out the door, hand-in-hand. "So, can you believe this?"

I grin. "Yeah. It's still pretty crazy, but I don't feel like this is a coincidence. I think this means something. It's special."

"Yeah, me too."

It is something special. It always will be.


	8. The Evolution of Us

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. This is from Zoey's POV. I'm making everything up from the shooting on, so bear with me. HUGE thanks to sassie69 for editing and being a giant help (and rewording the last paragraph for me especially)! Please review!**

**Zoey Bartlet and Charlie Young**

**The Evolution of Us**

"Everywhere I went, people whispered about me, like I was some kind of freak. 'That's Zoey Bartlet.' It's all I ever heard when I was in public. Some of them just called me 'the President's daughter' and some called me much worse things. That was my life. I wasn't always the President's daughter; I was also the Governor's daughter and the Senator's daughter at one point. But that was my life.

Then I met Charlie.

It was early in my father's Presidency. His Personal Aide had just quit, and on top of trying to run a giant and dysfunctional country, he was searching for the most trustworthy man in America. A right-hand man. Charlie had applied for some job, I think a messenger, and Josh interviewed him. Josh knew my dad needed a new body man, and he saw something in Charlie. He knew he was special.

Dad liked him, too, and they decided to hire him as Personal Aide. I liked him from the day I met him. He was so nice, and so cute. I kept asking my dad about him, and when I knew his story, that locked it. Not as a sympathy crush, not like that at all But I really admired him. After all he went through, he wasn't bitter, you know? I was really inspired by him.

One day, a Wednesday, I think, I decided to go for it. Why not ask him out? The worst he could say was no. So I did, and after a little confusion, we were indisputably, undeniably a thing.

Sometimes, my father does stuff, like attend town hall meetings in small towns, stuff like that. A few years ago, he attended one in Rosslyn, Virginia. For a while before that, Charlie and I had been receiving death threats, because of the whole interracial couple thing.

After the town hall meeting, on the way out of the building, shots were fired. There were no fatalities, but it was terrifying. Three people were hit: Josh, my dad, and a woman named Stephanie Abbott. My father was pretty lightly injured but Josh was almost killed. I never knew what happened to Stephanie. Everyone took it as an attempt to assassinate the President, plain and simple. No one put it together with the death threats. Not until the 'man-on-the-ground' admitted it.

The shots were fired at Charlie. They were meant to kill him. They wanted to make him die, because he loved me, and I loved him. In that moment, I wanted to give up on humanity. But Charlie didn't. Charlie, who's mother was shot in the line of duty. Charlie, who had raised himself and his sister. He got up the next morning, and he smiled at strangers, and served my demanding, ungrateful dad without complaint. That's why I love him.

After that, we were closer than ever. We were best friends, and he visited me every night. Everyone loved him, Gina, Josh, C.J, Sam, my dad...he's that kind of guy, you know? You can't dislike him. Unless, apparently, you're a member of West Virginia White Pride.

When his sister, Deanna, went off to college, we got an apartment together. He started taking night classes at Georgetown. We went over a little rough patch there; I think we were spending too much time together. Once we got used to it, we were fine. It just made us stronger, really.

We were together for 4 years before Charlie proposed. It's a great story. We were at the White House, in Josh's office (I don't remember why, but whatever) and he was keeping me away from the window. I didn't know why, I figured it was just a weird thing, and I didn't think much of it, right? Why would I? Then, he got a text. I saw it over his shoulder, and it just said "Ready when you are!" I was so confused. Then, he opened the window, and, low and behold, a bunch of our friends were on the lawn holding a huge 'Marry Me, Zoey' poster. I, of course, said yes, and we got married in May of that year.

Our honeymoon phase was wonderful. It was romantic. We never fought or argued until about 5 months after the wedding. I wanted a baby in the future. Charlie just wanted politics. There were screaming matches every night for weeks. We never told anyone we were fighting; we would just grin and bear each other in public. We would say we didn't love each other, that maybe getting married was a big mistake. We threatened each other with a divorce for a long time.

We were both miserable during this period. We were angry, hateful, and cruel all day, every day. And that gets tiring. I stayed with a close friend of mine for a week or so. Then, we both gave up on fighting. I know, it seems like it shouldn't be that easy to fix a broken marriage, but exhaustion and talking it out worked for us. A little maturity goes a long way in situations like that. I moved back in, and we fell in love again. It became romantic again, we barely fought anymore. It was like we got every horrible thing we had to say out in those few long weeks.

We were so, so happy after that. We were luckier than most couples, because we kept the romance alive. We went out on dates as much as we could, around our jobs and everything. It was the best time of our lives.

Five years ago, the unthinkable happened. I lost him. He died in his sleep, with me in his arms. Charlie had an aneurysm, no one knew. He was perfectly fine up until then, in fact, we were trying for a baby at that point. I still want one but...I won't be remarrying. Not soon, anyway. I feel like my heart died with him. I haven't really felt an attraction to anyone since then. But it's normal, right? I don't even know why C.J. is making me do therapy." I huffed.

Dr. Winston nodded sympathetically. "I understand how you feel."

Now, I raise my eyes from studying the carpet pattern to meet his, making sure my incredulity and scorn are evident, "You can't possibly understand. He was my _life_! _My life_! No one knows how much I loved him. How much I _still _love him." Before I knew it I was rushing from the Psychologist's office, tears streaming down my face blindly running, anywhere to get away from the pain of the newly opened wounds. Anywhere to get away from losing Charlie.


	9. Guys Like You

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. The first part is from Amy's POV. This is set during a (fictional) date of theirs.**

**Joshua Lyman and Amy Gardner**

**Guys Like You**

"So I turn around and tell the Energy Secretary, 'You shouldn't laugh, it's _your_ hamster!'" Josh and I burst out laughing at his admittedly hilarious story.

"J, you're an idiot!"

"In this business, idiocy is your friend."

"Wise words, buddy. Wise words."

"Have ever done something idiotic?"

"You, for one thing."

"I walked into that."

"You walked into that!" As you can probably tell, we were a more than a little bit drunk.

"Amy, you're giggling. On this fair day I experienced a rare phenomenon: a giggling feminist."

I smirked. He had a point, and I had an expression: if he makes you giggle, he's worth it. "Well, J, take a picture. This won't be happening again."

"A vodka-fueled miracle?"

"You know it. So, it's 3 in the morning, and you have a 5 AM meeting with the President. What to do, what to do..." Please don't go home.

"Amy?"

"Yeah, special J?"

"Screw it."

"With all due respect to the President?"

"With all due respect to President, screw it."

My eyes search the restaurant. "We probably shouldn't be here."

"Why?"

"Because this is the fanciest restaurant in Washington, and we're wasted."

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"One of the most powerful and mature men in the country. That is, when you're not acting like a five-year old on steroids."

"How sweet."

"I do my best." He leaned over and kissed me gently.

O00oo00oo00O

"JOSHUA LYMAN!"

"Morning, CJ."

"I'll poison your food and watch you slowly die. No one will know it was me."

"Well, you just confessed to premeditated murder in the White House, the land of press and tape recorders, so that pokes a hole in your plan."

"Josh, have you seen the Times? Or the Post? Or turned on a damn TV?"

"Um—"

"No, of course you haven't, because you've been out with Amy Gardner all night!"

"Why is that a problem? We've been dating for weeks."

"Amy Gardner is the face of the Woman's Leadership Coalition. You are one of the faces of the White House. Right now, the White House and WLC aren't doing so well, in fact, if you haven't yet heard, we are in the middle of a battle about paid family leave. Do you have any idea how this looks?"

"I'm getting the idea."

"You stupid people and your stupid lives! I thought this was going to be a good day!"

"Why?"

"For one thing, you weren't here yet!" She stormed away to the press room.

"What did you do?" Sam came up behind Josh.

"I got drunk with a feminista."

"Amy?"

"Yeah."

"The press just found out about this _now_?"

"No, but it's only becoming a thing now. Paid family leave." He clarified.

"Well, good luck."

"Yeah."

O00oo00oo00O

"AMY!" Amy was met by the WLC's PR director, who was currently screaming hysterically. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Well, I'm not sure where to start."

"Why were you with Josh Lyman last night?"

"Because he's my boyfriend, who I was out on a date with. It seems pretty simple."

"Well, explain that to the Post, the Times, Fox News, and Channel 8 news, among many other news sources who have painted you as 'sleeping with the enemy' to quote Isobel Reid of USA Today!"

"Why is this just a problem _now_? We've been dating for, like, a month."

"Ever heard of a little thing called paid family leave?"

"That's what this is about?"

"You can do him in the Lincoln Memorial's lap for all I care, when we aren't fighting with his entire organization about a crucial step in women's rights!"

"Maybe I will."

"Amy..."

"No, Ky, maybe I will, because this is my life. I can do what I want, and you can't preach about women's rights while telling me I can't! Do you think they're doing the same thing to Josh at the White House right now? No, because they respect him."

O00oo00oo00O

"How stupid are you?"

"Toby—"

"It's a real question, Josh. How stupid can you possibly be to date _Amy Gardner_ right now? The same Amy Gardner who is at freaking war with the White House!"

"Why is this a big deal?"

"Because—because—because this looks like shestakingadvantageofyou."

"Was that English?"

"It looks like she's taking advantage of you! It looks like the White House _can _be taken advantage of!"

"I'm not the White House, Toby."

The shaking closed his eyes and just stood for a moment. "Get out."

"Why?"

"Because you can't—you can't think that. You can't think that every damn thing you do isn't associated with the White House. With the President. You really need to get the hell out before I do something I'll regret."

O00oo00oo00O

After two equally miserable days, Josh and Amy decided to meet at Josh's apartment. They had both been to hell and back and just needed each other.

"They're all so pissed." Amy moaned. "Why the hell are they all so pissed?"

"Because 'I'm the White House and you're the WLC'." She rolled her eyes. "I know, but it's all I've gotten all day."

"Please! You don't know the half! I keep getting wounded looks from interns. It's like I'm screwing the school bully!"

"I am pretty big and bad."

"J, if you saw a fly with a 'Squash me' sign on its back, you wouldn't touch it."

"Just because I'm kindhearted doesn't mean I'm not a badass."

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just...no."

"Oh, really?"

She snorted. "Yes, really. Do you heat this place?"

"On special occasions. It's bad for the planet, Amy, plus, it means I can use more water."

"Well, Aqua Man, looks like you'll be taking cold showers tonight." She smirked and started towards his thermostat.

"Did you just double-sass me?"

"Maybe."

"Amy, you shouldn't be here."

She blinked at him. "That was sudden."

"You shouldn't."

"But I am." She made her way towards him and plopped down on his lap.

"What if someone sees you?"

"They already know, what does this matter?"

"I don't know. You know what? It doesn't. I don't care."

"They can't take this away. I'm not the WLC and you're not the White House. We're adults, we make our own choices."

"That's right."

"You know what the thing is about guys like you, J?"

"What?"

"You'll always care what they say, and you'll always worry about how it'll affect the White House and the President because you care about them. You know what else?"

"Yeah?"

"I love guys like you, J.


	10. Hallelujah

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. **

**Holy crap. Last night, I saw Posse Comitatus for the first time. TV shows don't make me cry, this one made me sob. How could they do that to CJ, to **_**Simon**_**? As horrible as it was, their musical choice inspired me, so please enjoy and review! Feedback is really helpful, and I take couple requests!**

**CJ Cregg and Simon Donovan**

**Hallelujah**

Simon. Simon. Simon. His name runs through my head, over and over. How is it so easy? Just BANG and he's gone. It shouldn't be that easy, like any idiot can do it. He just walks into a store, some guy pulls a trigger, and it's like he was never there.

_Maybe there's a god above, _

_But all I've ever learned from love_

_Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you_

It's too soon for this to happen. I mean, it always would have been too soon, but I just met him. I just kissed him. I don't know anything about him, not even basic stuff. What was his favorite color, his favorite season? I never asked, god knows I'm not friendly enough for that, not friendly _period_. I shut him out. He tried to help me, and I shut him out. What is wrong with me?

_It's not a cry you hear at night,_

_It's not somebody who has seen the light,_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

I can't imagine how ridiculous I look right now. I'm in the middle of a crowded street, wearing an evening gown and sobbing. People keep giving me these looks, sometimes it's "Huh, someone should really take her back to the asylum" and other times it's "Poor dear". I don't know which I hate more. I don't need their pity, and I'm not crazy! Hold on, this isn't about them. It's about _him_. I'm just so confused. I mean, 40 minutes ago, I kissed someone who's dead right now. Cut me some slack.

_I did my best, it wasn't much,_

_I couldn't feel so I tried to touch,_

_I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you_

I think I loved him. I wasn't sure, but I think I did. I never stopped thinking about him, but I also never stopped _being_ with him. Hogan said this would happen. Well, kind of. She warned me not to get too attached because something could happen. I laughed at her and told her I was the White House Press Secretary, not a Bond girl. Sometimes, I think the country should be run by teenagers. Then, I think again and realize we would all be dead at the hands of a tempestuous prom queen, but still, they're a lot smarter than we give them credit for.

_And even though it all went wrong,_

_I'll stand before the Lord of Song,_

_With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah _

Oh my god, Simon's dead. I'm never going to see him again. It hits me like a ton of bricks again and again. I had plans. I had these stupid plans about how I would make time for him, and he would make time for me, and he would teach me how to shoot, and we would be happy. I didn't count on him getting murdered. I had just a little faith in humanity, how silly of me. I bury my face in my wrap. Simon is gone. Gone, gone, never coming back, gone. My naïve little brain can't seem to process this.

_There's a blaze of light in every word,_

_It doesn't matter what you heard,_

_The holy or the broken Hallelujah_

I've felt pain before, I've broken bones and all, and this isn't pain. With pain comes fire, I just feel defeated. I was the girl who all the boys called big bird and freak and nerd and ignored and I thought that this was when it turned around. Being happy was going to be my revenge, something finally working out, and then this bastard shoots him. I feel empty. I'm done standing up straight and joking and smiling and being tough. It's my turn to cry.

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch,_

_Love is not a victory march,_

_It's a cold and it's a broken _

_Hallelujah_


	11. Call Me Gingy

**Disclaimer: I don't own The West Wing. This started off as Josh/Donna story, but it evolved into some Sam/Ginger fluff. This is very random, very fluffy, it's probably pretty bad.**

**Sam Seaborn and Ginger**

**Call Me Gingy **

"The new President of the United States is...Josiah Bartlet!"

Screams erupted in the small New Hampshire building known as Bartlet headquarters. CJ was lifted up by Toby. Josh danced with Donna to some unheard music. Sam cheered and opened a champagne bottle. Ginger and Bonnie laughed and cried in each other's arms. In the center of the room stood Jed Bartlet whooping and dancing with Abbey. Mrs. Landingham sat in the corner, smiling on.

"Donnatella, we won. We are the kings and queens of this fair nation!"

"Right you are, King Joshua. This is a new era. We won!" She cried. "We freaking won! The rest of them bow at our feet!" At this point, their blood alcohol level was through the roof, as you can probably tell.

Sam held Ginger and swayed with her in another room. "Ginger, this is amazing." He muttered into her hair.

"I know. We're going to be in charge. Everyone else just has to watch us."

"I feel like a real politician, you know? Like, I was a politician before, kind of, but now I feel like I'm actually real and effective."

"You are. You're real, and effective, and powerful."

"You're not too bad yourself, Gingy."

"Gingy?" She smirked.

"It'll catch on, just you wait."

"Fine, call me Gingy, Sammy."

"It's only fair, I guess."

"Yeah."

"Let's do something fun. We're not going to be able to have a life for the next four years, so come on, carpe diem, Gingy."

"What do you suggest?"

"We could go streaking."

"No."

"We could go to a discotheque."

"How old _are _you?"

"You could kiss me."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Huh. Okay." She just reached over and gave him a peck. He gave her a pleading look. She laughed and kissed him a little more, then pulled away. He gave her his signature puppy dog eyes. She shoved him against a wall and kissed him forcefully, her legs around his waist.

"Gingy, it's gonna be a good four years."

O00oo00oo00ooO

**2 years later...**

"Get Lawson and Jarvis on the phone." Sam barely looked up.

"Lawson on line 3." Ginger started to walk away.

"Thanks, Gingy."

She whipped around. "What?"

Sam's mind raced. Oh my god, she doesn't remember. Tell her. Don't tell her. Shut up, Sam! "Oh, nothing. Just...never mind."

"What?"

"Do you remember the night we won?"

"Nope, I was pretty wasted."

"Well, ah...you kissed me."

"Did I?"

"You did."

"That was a mistake."

"I, um, I guess."

"No, I don't mean doing it in the first place." Sam sighed in relief. "I mean just doing it once." She leaned over and gave him a light kiss.

She turned around to leave. "Lawson on line 3."


End file.
